"I feel it and so do you. You can't see the bluffs any more. There's
nothing in sight, but the lights of the steamers and the transports.
We must be somewhere near the middle of the stream, because I can't make
out either shore."

There were two regiments aboard the transport, the Winchester and one
from Ohio, which had fought by their side at both Perryville and Stone
River. Usually these boys chattered much, but now they were silent,
permeated by the same feelings that had overwhelmed Dick. In the
darkness--all lights were concealed as much as possible--with both banks
of the vast river hidden from them, they felt that they were in very
truth afloat upon a flowing ocean.

They knew little about their journey, except that they were destined for
the eastern shore, the same upon which Grand Gulf stood, but they did not
worry about this lack of knowledge. They were willing to trust to Grant,
and most of them were already asleep, upon the decks, in the cabins,
or in any place in which a human body could secure a position.

Dick did not sleep. The feeling of mystery and might made by the
tremendous river remained longer in his sensitive and imaginative nature.
His mind, too, looked backward. He knew that the great grandfathers
of Harry Kenton and himself, the famous Henry Ware and the famous Paul
Cotter, had passed up and down this monarch of streams. He knew of their
adventures. How often had he and his cousin, who now, alas! was on the
other side, listened to the stories of those mighty days as they were
handed from father to son! Those lads had floated in little boats and
he was on a steamer, but it seemed to him that the river with its mighty
depths took no account of either, steamer or canoe being all the same to